All Love
by WatchTheQueenConquer
Summary: [One-shot] "I watched her struggle...and I watched her win. And now, I get to watch her marry the love of her life." Phoebe muses on life and love.


**Note: This is just me, dusting off my writing skills after a long of no writing. We'll see where it all leads. Keeping busy while I wait for TJM, right? :-)**

 **This was interesting for me because I've never really played around with Phoebe before. I figure her softness lets her see it all from a distance, so I thought about playing around with that a little bit.**

 **Disclaimer: Obvious. I own nothing.**

* * *

"You look wonderful, my dear."

In the mirror, I see his tall, dark figure swoop down to place a quick kiss on my cheek. I smack my lips together, smoothing out the strawberry-flavored gloss. I gaze up at his reflection and smile, blushing just a bit. Typical. After so many years together, I still feel my heart skip a bit whenever he says something remotely sweet; I am forever a nine-year-old girl, light-hearted and easy.

"Why, thank you!" I respond enthusiastically. I never try to conceal the happiness Gerald brings me. Some women like to make their men work-I do not come from that school of learning. I'm much happier this way.

I snap the cap back onto the tube of gloss and place it in my powder-white purse. I rise from the chair and turn off the bright lights that embellish the rim of the mirror.

Gerald places a hand on the small of my back, holding my gaze in the darkened mirror.

"I kind of can't believe this is happening," he says with a lopsided smile.

I laugh a little bit. "Oh, I certainly can."

He kisses my cheek once again. "See you on the flip side." He pulls away from me, winks, and exits the room. My smile grows larger, as though I'm hoping he will somehow see it from behind. A squeal breaks my train of thought.

"Oh my gosh, you guys are so adorable!"

Lila pops up from beside me, her lips pouted in a sentimental smile.

I blush. "Thanks, Lila. Gosh, it feels like we've been together for so long...I'm glad people aren't sick of us just yet!"

Lila shakes her head rapidly, her long brunette locks jostling around her bare shoulders. She's wearing a periwinkle dress-an exact replica of the one I am currently wearing. She looks beautiful in it-it hugs every curve quite elegantly, and combined with her flowing hair, she looks almost like a mermaid. Part of her face is illuminated by the distant lights from another mirror, adding to her ethereal look. She beams, clearly enjoying herself as a member of the bridal party.

"You look great, Lila!" I offer. Something about discussing my own relationship with Gerald doesn't feel right. On today, of all days.

She glances down at her gown and smiles. "It's lovely, I'm oh so glad we chose this color instead of the pink!" I smile once more.

A woman that I have only spoken to a couple of times enters the room. Her frazzled look implies that she is the wedding planner, and her assertive, confident tone only confirms it for anyone with any doubt. She hurries us along, and before I know it, it's time.

The church is large. It is exquisite. The stained glass windows usher in the early afternoon light, welcoming in the colors of spring that has danced its way into the city once again. When I reach my spot at the altar, I gaze at the crowd in a surreal stupor. I see so many faces that I recognize-all of the friends I had grown up with, all of the adults who had seen us grow. Friends who came and went and came back again. I see the groom's family boasting proud smiles-I believe his grandmother is waving some sort of flag from her row?- and I see the bride's family, beaming. Something inside of me warms as I realize that they are truly happy to be here.

I catch Gerald's eye from my position, and I smile. There is something beneath his gaze-something I can't quite describe, but understand completely. I feel it as well. A contentedness, perhaps.

When I see the groom, my smile widens. Who wouldn't?

Arnold looks dashing in his suit, his hair gelled back slightly. He looks a little nervous, though he is smiling. He must be so excited to start this new journey. I think about how faithful, intelligent, sensitive, and smart he is, and how he has always been. I've truly enjoyed becoming a good friend of his, and feel almost lucky to have him around. He catches my eye and smiles softly. I am convinced of his nerves. I chuckle to myself-there is nothing surprising about that.

It is when the organ starts to play that I feel my throat tighten. All heads turn towards the back of the church, where a figure has emerged and is walking towards us. I bite my lip a tiny bit. know the skepticism and fear that comes with being a bride. I can feel her adrenaline.

This is my first time seeing Helga in her bridal attire, and the sight of her causes my breath to catch.

She is stunning.

She is caught in a ray of pink light. Her snow-white dress, strapless and reminiscent of the one I'm wearing, has fluid designs along the bodice that melt into the skirt. Her thin veil gently protects her face, and her loose strands from her updo are curled slightly. Her makeup is simple, yet striking, and her crimson lipstick is moderate. It is not from her dress nor her makeup that she radiates-it is her eyes. They are alive and alert, and filled with more happiness than I have ever seen. She has none of the skepticism and fear. She has confidence and strength.

I have known Helga for most of my life. I have wanted nothing but the best for her. I've watched her hide her personality from the world, and her feelings from the one boy she's ever truly loved.I've kept her deepest secret, never knowing if things would ever work out. I watched her pine for him, trying my best to offer advice. I watched her hold back tears when her mother forgot to pack her lunch, or when her father would get her name wrong. I watched her grow distant and unfeeling. I tried as hard as I could to help her feel _wanted_. I watched her mature, and I watched her learn to fight her battles eloquently. I watched her struggle to mend her broken family, and I watched her win. And now, I'm about to watch her marry the love of her life.

As she approaches the altar, she catches my eye. For a moment, time seems to stop. Her eyes seem to soften when they land on me. _Thank you,_ they seem to say. _I love you._

I give one, curt nod in return as if to say _anytime. I love you, too._

She turns her back to me, and the ceremony begins.

I find my mind beginning to wander slightly as visions of my childhood flash into my head: Helga and I in her room, trying to discover the cause of her sleepwalking...Arnold and Helga, dancing the tango at the April Fool's Day dance (who even has those?) in the fourth grade….all of us playing football in the park...me watching her monitor lizard for the night...the town flooding...saving the neighborhood! I nearly burst out laughing-what sort of childhood consisted of monitor lizards and tangos? A wonderful one, perhaps. One you could only dream of having.

I find myself being torn from my nostalgia and returning to the ceremony.

"Arnold, do you take…"

I watch Arnold's eyes, searching Helga's. I cannot see her face, but I know how her eyes must be shining. Arnold looks so much more relaxed. He's gazing at her lovingly.

"I do." He finally says when it's his turn to speak.

"Helga, do you…"

I watch the back of her head.

"You bet I do." she responds.

I giggle. What a pair they make. The lover and the fighter uniting.

As the words _man and wife_ ring throughout the church, I feel my vision clouding, and I struggle to keep from letting too many tears slip. Arnold and Helga share their first kiss as husband and wife, and Gerald's eyes land on me. He grins at me before looking back at the couple.

I hear a sniffle from beside me and glance at Lila, smiling through the tears streaming down her face.

* * *

I try to avoid Helga as much as possible right after the ceremony. I mentally prepare myself for my speech that is to be delivered at the reception. I don't want to accidentally say anything too early. I give her a warm hug and a quick "Congratulations!" before she is swept away by the rest of her friends and family.

I don't know how long I spend going over the words, new ideas popping into my head, ruining my already solidified plans for the speech. I begin to fumble, and I try not to panic. I know that Helga won't love the sappiness, but it feels appropriate. Should I change it to suit her preference? Suddenly, I'm feeling unprepared and insecure.

When the time comes for me to take the microphone, I feel exposed and inadequate. Me. Phoebe Heyerdahl. A Yale graduate, for crying out loud.

"Hello, everyone." I say. My voice sounds much meeker than I had expected, even with the amplification.

There isn't much of a response. The newlyweds smile at me from their table. Helga grins. "Go Pheebs!" she hollers, ever so gracefully.

"Um...I would just like to say a few words to the bride and groom. Arnold, you are such a wonderful guy and you always have been. You've always been there for the rest of us, and you are always willing to lend your ears and advice when we needed it. You are compassionate and kind…" my speech feels a little dull in my mouth. I hope he knows how sincere I am. I finish it with something along the lines of "You've taken such good care of us, and now, you get someone who wants nothing more than to take care of you. Congratulations, Arnold."

There is a smattering of applause, and I pause for a moment.

"Helga…" I start. She perks up, leaning forward in her seat.

I swallow. "Helga, you don't know how happy I am to see you right now, on this day, as happy as you are. I barely remember a time when we weren't close. You've let me into your private thoughts, your darkest secrets-"

"Share 'em!" Harold Berman's booming voice rings out, his mouth half full of food.

There is laughter, and I see Helga throw a small piece of food at him, while Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd scolds him simultaneously. I can't help but smile.

"As I was saying, I've seen you go through a lot, and I have appreciated you letting me into your world. I spent so much time hoping that you would find happiness, and, well, there's no doubt that you've found it." I suddenly am finding it harder to speak. "You are like the sister I never had, Helga. And I am so happy that I get to go through life with you, and I am thankful for the experiences that we've had together. I can't wait to see what else there is in store for you, and for us, and for you and your new husband. I wish you both very long, and very happy lives."

I place the mic back into its holder and hurry off before I can start crying in front of people. Helga gazes at me and mouths something: _Thank you._

* * *

I spend the rest of the evening watching the couple. I glance at Gerald a number of times. He's sharing my thoughts again.

It's funny, how interesting life can be. It's always changing-one never really knows what they're going to get. As I take in the scenario, I think of how many other possibilities might have happened. Somehow, the stars aligned, and Helga got her man-for all I know, one different move in high school could have paired her with Gerald. Perhaps this could have been my day, instead. The chances of anything happening at all is well, astonishing, when you think about it. And so special. I don't know if I believe in fate, but this all feels very right to me. Me and Gerald. Arnold and Helga.

As I watch them dance their first dance, I hear Helga whisper something to her new husband. I can't hear most of the sentence, but I _do_ hear the words "Football Head".

I giggle to myself. That was what I loved about them. The playfulness, the occasional friction, the energy. Their love is far different from my love with Gerald. Ours is simplicity. It is ease and tranquility, and, in a sense, muted. The love between Arnold and Helga is bold and artistic, and at times, frenzied. But never anything but pure. It is a different love than I know, but it doesn't matter, because its all love. All love, of any kind, matters.

Beide me, Gerald takes my hand. I look at our entwined fingers, my wedding ring glistening. He kisses my hand, and I look back at the couple, encouraging others to join them on the dance floor as the music evolves into something more upbeat.

Gerald raises an eyebrow at me, and I nod, letting him lead me onto the floor.

How very lucky I am.

* * *

 **There you go, some easy reading. "All Love" also happens to be a title of an Ingrid Michaelson song that I was listening to when I thought of this. Thanks for reading!**


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